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Chapter Twelve |  Theater Geeks

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Chapter Twelve |  Theater Geeks

Murphy's Law. A rule that states "If something can go wrong, it will."

That's exactly what happened in the cafeteria today, and that's reason I'm sitting here in this quiet theater room five minutes early waiting for the stupid Art Director to arrive so he can talk to me about what I'll be doing. My parents always told me it's best to arrive early wherever it is you're going - no matter the place or the occasion. It not only looks good, but it gives you more time and you feel good about yourself.

However, I wasn't feeling so good about myself. Boredom had struck me like truck as I waited for someone, anyone to walk through the theater doors. I watched the second hand of the clock tick, tapping my fingers lightly against the arm rest of the theater seat I sat in. The time between each tick seemed to stretch on forever, the sounds of the quiet theater amplified as I felt my brain slowly melt out of my ears.

I tried counting to sixty in French in my head to pass the time, but that ended just as quickly as it started. I tried it again, this time backwards.

I then tried the same routine in Spanish.

Then again in Japanese.

Eventually, I ran out of languages and patience. I suddenly regretted not taking up that Mandarin class my father had offered, but I was already fluent in four languages, I didn't see the purpose in learning another one.

The only reason I took up so many languages is because my father says it looks good on applications and when running a business as wide spread as his it's good to know more than one language, which he isn't wrong. Bi-lingual people are paid more in their careers than people that speak only one language. With me being quad-lingual I'm all set, at least that's what my father tells me.

The sounds of the theater double doors cracking opening caused me to shift in my seat, my head immediately turning towards the opening doors. I only grimaced when I seen it was just Asher. It was after school hours and the first thing I noticed were his clothes. He had changed out of his uniform into something more comfortable that looked just thrown together, but the way he styled and layered it made it so impeccable they appear brand new. There's a coordination to his outfit that surprises me, but then I spot the durag tied around his head and I roll my eyes.

We exchanged glances but only for a quick second, because I quickly break the gaze once an eerie small smirk creeps over his lips. I focus my attention elsewhere as he walked past me and took a seat at the chair diagonal from me. I could hear him scuffing around with something, but I didn't turn around to see what it was. I didn't care that much honestly.

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